by Judith Leon
“Shit!” Marko said over the noise. “We’re taking fire from two points. We are pinned! Can’t hold out against two-point attack…shit!”
Lindsey heard a babble of sound, Ferris swearing mostly. Someone, probably Tia or Monique, was firing the Mk-48 at the chopper. The chopper pilot returned their fire.
Lindsey could also hear Jeremy’s intermittent voice in the staccato microseconds between bullets, hysterically swearing and accusing Marko and the Athena women of total incompetence.
What happened to the MGL-140? Marko was in extreme danger. She knew what needed doing, but the team must avoid hitting each other in crossfire. “This is T-7. Permission to take out chopper guard.”
Tito’s voice came on next. “Hold, T-7. T-3, where are the grenades?”
“Launcher’s frozen!” Ferris said. “I’m working on it.”
“Damn!” Tito said. “Okay, T-7. T-3, T-4, T-5, hold fire. T-7, proceed.”
“T-7, copy,” Lindsey answered. To Teal she said, “Stay right here,” and then she bolted out from the tree line running in a crouch, stun shield hanging on her left elbow, Taser in her left hand, Beretta in her right, aiming both at her target.
At thirty-some feet away from him, she saw him turn, in what seemed like uncanny timing. Too far for the Taser to work. It was shoot him or be mowed down. She fired the Beretta before the guard turned completely around, and hit him somewhere in the chest. He continued firing into the side wall of the chateau as he fell, not entirely disabled.
Closer now, she shot him in the right shoulder with the Taser. He spasmed and released the automatic. She dashed toward it and picked it up just as more automatic weapon fire sounded behind her. She dropped into the snow instantly, shield in front of her like a barricade.
Behind her?
Someone was firing from exactly where she’d left Teal.
God oh God oh God, please no….
The helicopter, only forty feet away, lifted, blasting her with snow. It circled and headed for the tree line. In her earwig, the sound of steady gunfire from automatic weapons still sounded from the front of the chateau, somehow distinguishable over the noise of the chopper and the painful ringing in her ears. No chatter, though; Tito and Sam must be completely engaged in defending themselves and Marko.
“This is T-7,” Lindsey said, forcing herself to move beyond the sick fear she was feeling for Teal. She was about to tell Ferris, Tia and Monique to fire with everything they had at the chopper, but when she risked a peek over the shield, she watched with a sinking feeling as the copter landed near the fir tree where Teal waited. I should never have left her.
“This is T-3. MGL ready, fixed on chopper. Go or no go? Your call, T-7.”
Another hail of fire and Lindsey ducked down. She quickly popped up again and saw a shadowy figure dragging Teal from the giant fir and toward the chopper while a second man kept firing at Lindsey. This couldn’t be happening. Where had they come from?
But, of course, something in her had known the instant the chopper guard had turned to fire at her. The whole front operation at the chateau was a decoy to distract the Athena team from the two men who had disappeared, and, on cue from the chopper guard, who obviously had noted two sets of footprints in the snow, doubled back through the woods and found Teal.
Lindsey could see Teal struggling. The spunky girl jabbed her captor with something whitish, maybe an icicle. He released her and fell down. The man firing at Lindsey instantly stopped, turned and gun-butted Teal. She fell, and he scooped her up and carried her toward the chopper, his injured partner struggling to follow.
“Help!” Teal screamed.
“This is T-3, ready to take chopper out. Respond, T-7.”
Lindsey gasped. “No! Hold your fire, T-3. They have the girl on the chopper.”
Its blades thrusting snow in every direction, the chopper rose up and then flew over the chateau. Teal’s face was pressed against the small side window. A splotch of red stood out against the white of the borrowed parka. She put her hand against the glass as if trying to reach out to Lindsey. And then she was gone.
I lost her…lost her…it was my fault….
Monique and Tia rushed down to secure the wounded chopper guard with unremarkable plastic ties. The idea of facing Monique and Tia and Sam—having to face anyone—seemed unbearable.
Heartsick, Lindsey headed toward Marko and Jeremy to see them rising, unscathed, from the snowy mound around the tree that had helped protect them in all the chaos of gunfire—which had finally gone silent.
Her ears ached with the high-pitched ringing and felt like they were stuffed with packing popcorn. Everyone else apparently had the same problem because they were all shouting into the earwigs.
“That guy at the fountain fought like a crazed demon.” The voice sounded like Tito’s.
“I can’t believe they’re just leaving their dead and wounded.” This was Sam’s voice.
“All team,” Tito said. “Clean up everything that’s ours. Leave the rest. Whoever these shits are, they can try their own explaining to the Czech authorities. Not our problem. T-7, you’re closest. Help T-6 appropriate the remaining car in the garage. Double-quick.” This meant Lindsey and Sam should hot-wire the car if necessary. “The SUV was crowded coming out. Now we have another man with us, too. We don’t have to be crowded. Let’s take two cars back to the airport and then get the hell out of the country.”
Glad to focus on something other than how miserable she felt, Lindsey ran toward the garage as Tito ordered Marko to load Jeremy into the nearest vehicle, the one in the garage. As she ran, Lindsey saw Marko trip. Jeremy turned and ran, hands still cuffed behind him. What an idiot. Marko quickly tackled him. In the earwig, she heard Marko say, “Try that again and you’ll feel the effects of this stun shield. You won’t like it.”
Passing the fountain, she glanced at a dead man lying faceup and was shocked to recognize him. A bullet had bored into his left cheek and exited behind him, judging by the red pool of blood in the snow. The eyes in the face long scarred from an explosion stared up at nothing. Todor. He’d been so sure he was a part of greatness in the making. Maybe you’ll get a posthumous ribbon, you damn fool.
“All team. We proceed to airport ASAP. T-2, you ride with T-3 so you can upload the disks and report that we’ve lost the girl as we ride.”
“We have a big problem.” This was Ferris’s voice. “Chopper fire knocked out the secure satellite-direct computer. Upload is no go.”
Chapter 38
W hile Lindsey waited in one car outside the tobacco shop with Monique, Marko and Jeremy, Sam and the rest of Tito’s team waited in the SUV. Tito and Ferris had gone inside to use the computer to send Allison the disastrous news about Teal and to upload Jeremy’s disks.
Now, as they caravanned toward the airport, Lindsey wanted to go off somewhere, anywhere, to be by herself. Losing Teal was a crushing weight. A search of Jeremy had produced the key to the vehicle Lindsey rode in, making it unnecessary to break the lock and hot-wire the car. Monique was driving, and Marko sat in back with Lindsey, Jeremy between them.
She reminded herself that Allison and Christine now had the disks, that the op had at least saved sixteen other girls from Teal’s fate and saved the world from Jeremy’s cruel genetic manipulations. Having him sitting here beside her gave her the willies. And the image of Teal looking down at her from the chopper haunted her. A teenage girl shouldn’t have experiences that warranted such a bleak expression. How could I have fallen for that decoy?
“I need my medication,” Jeremy said. “I’m really not feeling well.”
“Some good news at last,” Marko said. “I hope you’re in so much pain your guts twist. In fact, I’d like an excuse to make your pain worse.”
“Boorish imbecile,” Jeremy muttered.
“This damn traffic!” Monique said. “I missed the green light. We’re cut off from Tito and the others. Do you remember the way to the airport?”
“Yeah,” L
indsey said, “if you take a left up ahead, you can bypass some of this mess.”
Monique turned off the main drag, drove a few blocks and turned again to proceed on a parallel course through the quaint streets of the city’s older parts. On the console, one of the secure cell phones rang. Monique handed Lindsey the receiver.
Sam said, “What’s going on? Where are you?”
“Bad traffic. But we’re coming.”
“I have more bad news. Allison just called me and said the disks are bogus.”
“Bogus! Are they sure? How can they possibly know so quickly?”
“Inconsistencies and nonsensical data were found on all four disks by the people who are thoroughly familiar with the Lab 33 procedures.”
Lindsey glared at Jeremy. “We already know the disks are bogus. I bet Tito is going to take you apart limb from limb. This team won’t leave this country without them.”
Jeremy looked as amazed as Lindsey felt and said, “They can’t be fake. I…Pietro…”
“Fake?” Marko said, echoing Jeremy.
“It seems the disks Jeremy had on him are worthless.”
Another blow. No Teal. No disks. Only this repulsive creature sitting next to her. Think! Think! A failure so great was simply not acceptable. “We need to have another chat with our captive,” Lindsey said, leaning over to look at both Jeremy and Marko meaningfully. “We may be delayed,” she said to Sam. “We’ll meet up with you at the airport. I’ll keep you posted.” Lindsey ended the call.
A gleam came into Marko’s eyes. “Do I get to mangle this piece of canal scum?”
Lindsey nodded slowly, squinting at Jeremy, who studied the bindings on his wrists. He didn’t look particularly crestfallen, not like a man who’d been robbed of something incredibly valuable. Another idea occurred to her. If Pietro had somehow double-crossed Jeremy, then Pietro might have the genuine disks. “Monique, have you checked the location of the car you tagged?”
“Ah, no. I didn’t know the man inside was a priority any longer. You want me to check?”
“Yeah.”
Monique multitasked, driving and pushing buttons on her GPS tracker. Suddenly she swore. “According to the GPS tracker, the car I tagged is about two cars behind us!”
Jeremy gasped. “How can that be?”
The street narrowed, traffic decreased. Ancient buildings cast shadows everywhere despite the brightness of morning sun reflecting off snowy roofs.
“I see the car in my side mirror,” Monique said. “The guy who got away at the chateau…what’s his name?”
“Pietro,” Jeremy said.
“A gun!” Monique blurted. “Get down!”
Lindsey ducked down, along with Marko and Jeremy.
“He’s passed one of the cars behind us…now he’s passing the next guy. Hang on!” Monique swerved into a sudden right. Probably thinking to fool the driver behind her, she swerved into a hard right again and hit the gas.
Lindsey was thrown against the door and Jeremy leaned into her. Repulsed, she shoved him away.
“What the hell?” Monique shrieked and slammed on the brakes.
Lindsey peeked over the top of the seat to see a very familiar black limo, the one that last night had chased her and Zuza. As if the limo driver had known where they were headed, it pulled into the oncoming traffic, blocking Monique’s ability to pass. Lindsey twisted and looked behind. The car with Slick—Pietro—bore down at high speed. She caught a fleeting glimpse of the passenger behind the driver, the profile of a big man. It could only be…
“Pietro and Foo Hai are behind us. They are together,” she yelled. “Those are Foo Hai’s henchmen in the limo.”
“Run for it!” Monique yelled, sliding across the console to throw open the front passenger door. She bolted out, squatted, and immediately drew silenced gunfire, the only indication of firing being the pinging sounds of the bullets against the car’s metal.
Marko, also on the passenger side, leaped out and dragged Jeremy out by the handcuffs and they crouched behind the open rear door. Lindsey slid toward them and Marko pulled her out, too.
“That way!” Lindsey called and pointed to an alley behind them.
Scrambling together like flushed rabbits, they ducked into the first cross alleyway they came to, and then ran along the back of a public building. Lindsey pointed to a stairwell descending below ground level. At the bottom a door stood ajar.
Their pursuers rounded the corner, firing, Foo Hai in the lead. If Pietro had Jeremy’s genuine disks, why were these guys here? It had to be that Jeremy was lying to everyone. He had given Lindsey fake disks, but Pietro didn’t have the real disks, either.
Lindsey dashed down the stairs with the other three following. Monique cried out suddenly. Lindsey looked back. “I’m okay.” She motioned that Lindsey should keep going.
Inside the building, Lindsey slammed the door behind them. A janitor appeared, yelled at them and pointed to the door.
“He’s saying the museum hasn’t opened yet,” Jeremy said, eyes darting as he scanned the room.
“Don’t even think of bolting,” Marko said.
“You can’t let them get me,” Jeremy wailed. He seemed to be hyperventilating. “Foo Hai will torture me.”
It suddenly occurred to Lindsey that Jeremy was a thorough coward. He was losing it. So, given her own impression of Foo Hai as one extremely dangerous predator, she wasn’t at all surprised that Jeremy would be deathly afraid of the dark, silent Asian.
Monique staggered and then fell. “My leg…”
A growing red patch was spreading on the thigh of her snow-camo pants below a round half-inch hole. The shocked janitor started speaking frantically in Czech.
Pounding noises came from the door. Their pursuers were kicking it.
Wide-eyed, the janitor pointed toward the other end of the room and spoke rapidly.
Weakly, Monique said, “I can’t make it. You have to go.”
The door rattled with the assault from outside.
“I’m okay here,” Monique said. “Go!”
Marko scooped her up and carried her to a partial hiding place, a small chamber behind a display of some kind of contraption. He set her down gently. Dear God! The contraption was an ancient torture device. Lindsey glanced about and was stunned to see medieval weapons and, just beyond, skulls grinning at her.
The spitfire of silenced guns sounded outside and bullets pelted the door.
Chapter 39
“T hat way!” Jeremy pointed to a sign above a door in the opposite wall that Lindsey imagined probably said Exit. He ran toward the door.
The janitor called something after him.
“We’ll come back as soon as we can,” Lindsey said to Monique and then hurried after Marko, who was chasing Jeremy.
This museum was bizarre. Human skulls were used decoratively with other human bones in design structures. It looked like an ossuary for interior decorators. She dashed past an armchair-sized bell made entirely of skulls and bones and hanging next to a chandelier constructed from the same grisly building blocks. Beside the exit door hung a shield with bones forming a coat of arms.
How sick is this?
Gunshots, even though fired through a silencer, sounded louder than before. Foo Hai was in the building. In horror, Lindsey saw reflected in one of the fish-eye security mirrors positioned at the corners of the room the janitor with his hands raised. Foo Hai shot the man in the throat, then pointed down at the floor where Monique lay and fired again.
F-ing bastard! Lindsey’s cheeks burned with fury and helpless frustration.
Jeremy pushed the bar handle down. An alarm clanged. Lindsey and Marko rushed through the doorway following him. One of four messages on the door was in English and a fragment registered as she passed. STOP. This exit is for extreme emergency only. This museum cannot be responsible for…
The door shut silently. Aided by only a single dim orange mercury light above the museum door behind them, they scurried along in
near darkness under a curved corrugated ceiling surrounded by storage crates. Ten feet from the door, a pipe railing was all that prevented someone from walking off an edge into blackness below. She couldn’t see if the drop was five feet, fifty feet, or bottomless.
Five feet beyond the beginning of the rail another dim orange light revealed looming structures vaguely resembling an underground parking garage, except that the spaces between the levels were far too low. The place looked like it might be a condemned mausoleum. The frigid air smelled of dankness and decay. They scrambled down one flight of narrow stairs.
“Where the hell are we?” Marko pulled out a small but high-beam flashlight from his pocket. The orange light was now exceedingly faint.
“Look for the tunnel…” Jeremy said, hyperventilating as he tried to speak. “The janitor said…” Gasp “…something about this being…” Gasp “…an old bomb shelter and there’s…” Gasp “…a tunnel through the old ruins. An exit.”
That poor hapless janitor. Probably dead. And Monique! But they must race on. More stairs descended on either side of a dark chasm.
“Right or left?” she asked.
Jeremy’s gasp was almost a sob. “I don’t know. How could things have gone so badly?” He was panting. “I planned everything so carefully.”
Lindsey hated agreeing with Jeremy on anything, but he was right. She could make out old yellow warning tape stretched in front of them with a message in Czech. Probably, danger repeated over and over.
She led left and they moved quickly but carefully along the tape, which simply ended, trailing an unhelpful sash over the edge of the chasm. Marko jerked the tape off the rail, crumpled it, and stuffed it in his pocket.
“Souvenir?” Lindsey asked.
“Maybe Foo Hai and his men will run off the edge,” Marko said.
Jeremy nodded frantically. “That would be good. Yes, very good.” He now seemed close to babbling. “That greasy Italian lowlife criminal has betrayed me. I just knew I shouldn’t trust him. I knew. I knew.”
